


Day 20:  Hurts so Good

by Awriterwrites



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Facial, Fluffy love stuff, M/M, Smut, Spanking, bum stuff, not THAT kind, that kind, you got it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:30:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awriterwrites/pseuds/Awriterwrites
Summary: A barrage of memories assaulted Harry. He felt his pulse quicken and was fairly certain his dick twitched in his pants. Holy shit. He hadn’t thought about that night in a long time.“Remember Haz?” Louis’ voice was deeper still, low and fevered.Fuck, yes. He remembered. “Yeah—I.” Harry couldn’t find words for a moment. “I remember.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> HI! I hope you like this :)
> 
> Beautiful art from the always amazing and uber talented twopoppies. Make sure you drop her a line over on tumblr @twopoppies to tell her how incredible she is!
> 
> Now that I'm revealed I'd like to thank the ever generous and very talented @gettingaphdinlarry for her amazing beta skills. Your diligence and eye for detail helped make this fic what it is. So thank you!

“Georgie! No!” Harry swooped up George and swiped a finger through his drooling mouth. Two years old and he still put everything in his mouth. “Only food, Georgie. Only food,” Harry muttered, putting his son back down on the ground, watching him closely to make sure that he didn’t decide to snack on wood chips again.

George toddled away, looking over his shoulder to check and make sure Harry was watching him every so often. Harry gave his son a warm smile and sipped from his travel mug, tea gone cold, but still necessary.  Last night’s festivities were still with him...clinging to his body with a sense of sluggish exhaustion..

Last night had been…wow. Who knew trying all those new positions would be so… _hot_? One thing was for sure: this thirty day challenge was proving to be one of the most amazing, erotic and definitely fulfilling things he and Louis had ever done. More than halfway through the challenge and Harry could hardly believe what they’d already done.  With each other... _to_ each other.

Damn. Harry was a lucky man.

George slid down the small slide on the opposite end of the playground, his hair wild in the breeze and mouth open in a manic grin. He would nap well today. Harry was counting on that. He scanned the playground for Izzy. He saw the top of her head under the climbing structure where some of the preschoolers liked to congregate and play house. Or grocery store. Or restaurant. Who knew what it was today?

Just as he eased himself back down on to the bench, ready to finish his cold tea, Harry heard a very familiar shriek.

 _Isabelle_.

Bounding through the open area between where he was sitting and where the sound of the scream came from, Harry left a whirling flurry of dry, colorful, autumn leaves behind him. He reached Izzy in record time. Her face was red and her braid looked askew but she appeared unharmed.

“Iz, what is it? What’s wrong?” Harry asked cautiously. In his experience, it was always better to not overreact. Just gauge the potential carnage first.

“That girl pulled my hair!” Isabelle pouted, pointing at a fairly innocent child standing across from her. The little girl was holding her arm and had a streak of mud on her forehead but otherwise looked harmless.

“What did you do to her, Izzy?” Harry knew in these situations that his daughter most likely wasn’t completely innocent. She was half Tomlinson, after all.

“Nothing. I didn’t do nothing.”

Harry looked at Izzy who glared at the girl. The girl looked like she was ready to burst into tears. And then Harry saw it. Ah fuck. Not again.

“Izzy,” he used his Dad voice. The voice with a warning in it. The one that meant business. “What did you do?”

“Nothing. I told you!” Izzy’s voice was rising, as well as her temper. This wasn’t going to end well.

Suddenly, a pair of arms cloaked in a yellow rain slicker appeared from the other side of the climber. The girl that Izzy had tussled with was snatched backward. Harry pulled Izzy out and tucked her under his arm, her legs and arms akimbo, flying around in an effort to get released.

“Hi. I’m—I’m sorry. She’s…tired,” Harry started, aware of how weak his voice sounded as he stood Izzy on the ground beside him.

“She—your daughter _bit_ my daughter!” The woman’s voice was edging on hysterical.

Oh brother.

“Yeah. She, um does that sometimes? The pediatrician says it’s normal. She just needs to be around more kids sometimes and…I…” Harry stopped when he saw the look in the other parent’s face. This wasn’t going to be an easy sell.

The woman cradled her daughter in her arms, acting as if Izzy had bitten the kid’s entire arm off instead of leaving two little innocent tooth marks. “She’s an animal!”

Harry felt anger fly through his body like the leaves flying through the air above them. Maybe the temper wasn’t solely from the Tomlinson side. “Now wait just a minute…”

“No. You wait a minute.” The woman had gathered up her daughter in her arms—and was the kid smirking? By god, she was smirking at Harry. “You and your daughter need to get some help. She needs to learn she can’t just go around biting people to get her way. I’ll tell you what she needs,” the woman practically spat at Harry before she continued, “She needs a good _spanking_.”

And with that, she turned on her heel, racing off to her buggy, leaving behind the scent of cheap perfume and judgement. Harry looked down at Izzy and Izzy looked up at him. The two of them shared a shocked expression. “Daddy?”

Harry shook his head. Honestly. How should he explain that? He grabbed Isabelle’s sticky hand and pulled her into his arms. “It’s ok, love. That woman was just having a bad day. But what did we say about biting?”

“To not to.” Izzy’s voice was muffled against Harry’s jumper.

“Right. To not to.” He smiled, despite himself. “Now. What do you say we find Georgie and go home for some chicken soup? It’s a good day for that I think.”

Izzy looked up into his eyes and gave him a weak smile. “Ok, Daddy. Ok.”

Finding George was easy. He was sitting on top of a little hill of woodchips, feasting away. An exasperated Harry cleared his mouth again and sent a silent prayer out into the universe that the extra bits of wood would just serve as roughage and not do any serious internal damage.

Izzy was quiet on the way home and Harry’s mind was racing. He really hoped he wasn’t raising a psychopath. He made a mental note to Google the signs when he got home. Then he’d have to clear his search so Louis didn’t know he was obsessing about their daughter being a future mass murderer. Again.

It wasn’t until Harry had cleared away the soup bowls and the bread plates and had set about getting some cookies and warm milk ready for their dessert before a nap, that he realized Izzy had barely spoken during lunch. She’d been uncharacteristically quiet. Very much not like her. Another Tomlinson trait.

“Iz?” Harry placed the sugar cookies and mugs on the coffee table, searching out his eldest’s eyes. Izzy looked away, tears threatening to spill at any moment. “Oh, honey. Baby. What’s wrong?”

Harry sat next to Izzy on the sofa while George grabbed two cookies and dropped down on the floor in front of the TV. The theme song for _Sophia the Great_ started, making him wriggle on the floor in his adorable seated dance move.

“Daddy!” Izzy wailed and flung herself into Harry’s arms.

Harry was taken aback at the fierce emotion in Isabelle’s voice, her embrace tight and desperate.  Her body shook beneath him as she sobbed and he rocked her back and forth, murmuring, "Shh, shh, Izzy, it's OK..."  He shushed her and rocked her back and forth until she had stopped crying and he could talk to her. “Baby. What’s wrong?”

Izzy sniffed a little and looked up at Harry with sorrow written across her beautiful pale face. “Daddy. What does spanking mean?”

Harry frowned and wondered for a brief moment what she was talking about. Then he remembered. That awful woman from the park. Right. “Spanking? Well…Iz. Spanking is just when a daddy or a mummy might want to punish their child for doing something they weren’t supposed to.”

He waited, wanting to see if that was all she wanted.

Isabelle pressed further. “But, what exactly _is_ it?”

Harry took a deep breath. There was a part of him that wanted to protect his kids from the sometimes cruel or uncertain ways of the world. But he knew she wouldn’t let it go until she got the answer she wanted. “Well, Iz, spanking is hitting someone on their bum to make them know they shouldn’t do something. To punish them.”

Izzy was quiet for a moment. She wiped her nose on Harry’s soft rose colored jumper. Charming. “Will you hit me, Daddy?” She finally asked in a quiet little voice.

“No, no, never!” Harry curled himself around Izzy so that she’d feel safe, protected. He and Louis had, long ago, before they even had kids, talked about how they would never use physical punishment to discipline their children. They just didn’t believe in it. They thought that you could always reason with your kids, help teach them instead of make them fear their parents. “Papa or I would never hit you or Georgie. We don’t believe in it.”

Isabelle settled in against Harry’s chest as Harry leaned back, content to hold his daughter until she didn’t want to be held anymore. He hoped that was until she was at least twenty-five. “Daddy?” she asked softly.

“Hm?”

“I love you. And I’ll never hit you either.”

Harry thought his heart might break into a million pieces. _This_ was it. This was what parenting was all about. Little moments like this.

****

“Right. And I swear to god, Lou, you should have seen her face.” Harry dropped the last spoon in the dishwasher and wiped his hands on the towel hanging over his shoulder. He tilted his head to trap the phone more securely between his face and shoulder.

“Bloody hell, Haz. I wish I’d have been there. I’d have told that bitch exactly where she could…”

“ _Louis_.” Harry smiled at Louis’ protective streak. It was kind of hot. And really fucking sweet.

“Anyway. All’s well that ends well, right?” Harry sat down at the dining room table and opened up his laptop. He was hoping to get at least an hour of writing done while the kids napped. Maybe more if the fresh air from this morning did its magic.

“Hm.” Louis was quiet a moment. Harry could hear him breathing softly over the phone.

“What is it babe?”

“Just remembered something.” Louis’ voice was raspy all of a sudden, deeper. Harry sat up a little straighter, a kind of Pavlovian response to Louis’ sexy voice.

“Yeah? What?”

“Remember that time…that time at Margot’s wedding?”

Harry wracked his brain. Margot? His friend from uni. Margot was married about five years ago. Shortly before they started the adoption process for Isabelle. “Yeah? What— _oh_.”

A barrage of memories assaulted Harry. He felt his pulse quicken and was fairly certain his dick twitched in his pants. Holy shit. He hadn’t thought about that night in a long time.

“Remember Haz?” Louis’ voice was deeper still, low and fevered.

Fuck, yes. He remembered. “Yeah—I.” Harry couldn’t find words for a moment. “I remember.”

It was so quiet and still for a moment, Harry could hear the soft hitch in Louis’ breathing as he thought back to that night.  He was sure his husband was remembering the same thing--one of the most erotic and charged nights of their early relationship.

“That was…really…” Louis’ broke the silence, his voice sounding almost pained, a sound Harry recognized as one of deep arousal. Fucking hell.

“Yeah. I remember,” Harry said again. Because there wasn’t much more to say. All he could do right then, in that moment, was _remember_. And try to forget because Louis was there and he was here and…there wasn’t much they could do about it.

A sudden clatter in the kitchen startled Harry. Ziggy came sneaking out, his nose covered in something that looked suspiciously like flour. Like flour from the biscuits rising on top of the stove. “Ah shit, Lou. Gotta go.”

Louis exhaled roughly on the other end and said, “Ok. Ok. See you tonight.”

Harry shook his head, trying to put away the thoughts that had him flushing in a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. He sighed; there wasn’t time for that now. There was a plan B for dinner to think about now. “See you tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

****

The thing was, once an idea took root in Harry’s mind it was hard for him to let go of it.

He was tenacious like that. Some might call it stubborn. Harry liked to think of it as persistent.

And that memory dredged up during his midday call with Louis was _persistent_ right now. It had been all afternoon. He couldn’t get any writing done because it was all  he could think about. He was distracted while finger painting with the kids and could barely finish a Skype call with his mum, letting the kids pretty much run wild while Izzy waved the iPad in the air until Anne finally had to hang up, moaning about feeling seasick.

He called up a pizza for dinner—Izzy and George did an impromptu pizza dance—and threw together a last minute, fairly lackluster salad to go with it. He had just set the table and was calling the kids to dinner when Louis came in the door.

“I smell pizza!” he yelled from the foyer.

“Papa!” Izzy yelled and raced toward the front door.

Georgie, not to be outdone by his sister, ran as fast as his short little legs would take him. “Pa-pa!”

Harry slid into his chair and poured a glass of red for Louis first and then a glass for himself. Louis came into the dining room and walked directly to his husband, Izzy hanging off his leg and George wrapped around his neck like a fur stole. “Hello my love,” he said warmly, pressing a kiss to Harry’s temple.

Louis stood back and took a lingering look at Harry’s face. His brows screwed together as he carefully took in his husband’s appearance. “You—you feeling ok, Haz? You look a little flushed.”

Harry cleared his throat and looked down at the pizza in the middle of the table. “Yup. I’m good. Right as rain.” He wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , look at Louis.

He saw Louis pause in his peripheral vision, as if to ask Harry something.  Harry served the kids their food instead of acknowledging Louis’ questioning look, prompting Louis to quickly wash his hands and take his seat across from him. For some reason, Harry couldn't look at his husband, the afternoon’s haze still wrapped around him like a well-worn, but forgotten blanket, a shroud of embarrassment and intense longing burning under his skin.  Izzy demanded the crunchy ends be cut off her pizza and George plucked a cucumber slice right from the salad bowl, both kids providing enough distraction to cover—at least Harry thought—for his slight fugue.

“So, my little monsters, how was the day?” Louis leaned forward, rolling up his sleeves, and thanked Harry quietly for his plate. He reached for the salad bowl and Izzy started chattering away about the painting she made him and how Ziggy was a bad kitty and how Georgie had a wee accident in his big boy pants.

Louis listened intently and asked questions and made silly faces at George, making the toddler chortle in his booster seat. Harry felt fidgety and on edge, but didn’t let on. He wanted to focus on getting the kids into bed and then he could…focus on something else. The something that had him distracted and feeling off-center all afternoon.

As most nights, Harry cleaned up dinner and Louis bathed and got the kids ready for bed. He could hear lots of laughter and stomping around upstairs as he settled into his spot on the sofa with a second glass of wine. He was starting to relax. Finally. The afternoon had felt terminally long.

Pretty soon, Louis flopped next to him, putting his bare feet in Harry’s lap and holding his hand out for Harry’s wine glass.

“Is this that merlot we got that weekend with Niall?” Louis asked around a mouthful. Harry loved how his mouth stained deep claret with red wine. It made him look more handsome with his lips lined like that, if that were at all possible.

Harry nodded his head and took the glass back, taking his own sip. He wrapped one hand around Louis’ ankle and ran his thumb idly over the bone that jutted out just above his triangle tattoo. He looked at his husband over the round edge of the glass and felt his cheeks flame at what he was thinking. What he wanted, had wanted all day.

“Lou—I—um…” Harry’s voice was shaky. Fuck. This shouldn’t be so hard. Over the last nearly three weeks they’d done all sorts of crazy sex stuff. Stuff he never thought they’d never do, or ever do again, for that matter. This shouldn’t be so hard. Ha ha.  Pun intended.

Louis reached out and took the wine glass again, his fingers brushing over Harry’s, sending electric shocks through Harry’s body. Fucking hell, he was on fire. The only thing he could possibly think of that might come close to making him feel better, settled, was asking Louis to do this one thing for him. To him.

Louis drained the glass and then set it down gently on the coffee table. He moved fluidly so that he straddled Harry’s lap, nuzzling Harry’s neck straight away. Harry groaned and dropped his head to the back of the couch. Louis placed a series of wet kisses over Harry’s neck, and then started to swirl his tongue in these little tiny circles, making his way up Harry’s neck, his breath hot and insistent.  Harry squirmed under his husband, so hot and bothered already, had been all afternoon.   

“I know what you want.”

Harry jerked up and grabbed Louis firmly by the hips. He felt dizzy with want as he looked into Louis’ bright blue eyes that danced with that teasing light that Harry loved so much. “You—what?”

“I know what you want,” Louis repeated, his voice husky but light, something that Harry could never quite get used to when he was like this. It was like the more Louis talked the more Harry needed to hear him. His voice did something to him. It calmed him and drove him positively wild at the same time.

Harry turned his head so that their lips could meet. For a moment they shared wine-laced breath, lips barely brushing, noses sliding next to one another. “Fuck,” Harry whispered, wanting so much, needing more.

“Do you remember?” Louis mumbled, taking Harry’s full bottom lip between his, sucking the wine off of it, moaning quietly when Harry traced Louis’ top lip with his wet, urgent tongue. Louis ground down so that the his bum rubbed up against Harry’s quickly filling cock.

“Remember?” Harry panted, holding Louis in place with one hand spanning his lower back and the other reaching up to cup the back of his head. He twisted his fingers into the longer strands of hair and turned Louis’ face so that he could kiss him. He couldn’t remember his own name right now, let alone what Louis was on about.

Louis turned away, doing—at least in Harry’s opinion—a magnificent job ignoring the way Harry pumped his hips up and tried to hold him still so he could get some friction, some sense of relief. He licked the shell of Harry’s ear and whispered, “How hard it was to be quiet? When I did it?”

Harry whined and swiveled his hips up into Louis’ arse, his mind short-circuiting at the memory, the phantom feeling of it.

“Haz…” Louis scraped his fingernails against Harry’s scalp, tangling his fingers in his hair and yanking firmly as he twisted his hips in punishing series of figure eights. He ran his teeth along the side of Harry’s neck, under his ear, and bit down just hard enough to send blood racing to Harry’s cock.

“Oh _Christ_.” Harry moaned, scrambling to hold Louis by his hips so he could dry hump up into his covered arse. He _needed_. Fuck he needed release so badly after being assaulted by sepia toned, lust fueled memories all afternoon.

Louis squeezed Harry’s hips with his knees as he scooted up and out of reach so that Harry couldn’t get his cock anywhere near him. Harry whined at the loss. Louis mouthed along Harry’s jaw, nipping and biting softly as he went until he got back to his ear. “You want me to spank you.”

Harry felt his cock jump and the air he was holding in his chest came out in a low moan. “Ah fuck. Louis. God. _Louis_.”

Louis stood up, graceful and beautiful, leaving Harry panting and breathless on the couch. How was he talking, moving like that, Harry wondered, when all he could think was “yes” and “fuck” and “please”.

“Up you go,” Louis said, stern in tone like he would talk to the kids, but gentle in volume, like when he wanted Harry to do something for him.

Harry let Louis pull him up and he folded himself into Louis’ arms. Louis brought their mouths together and kissed him, kissed him like Harry had been wanting to be kissed all night. It was hot and insistent and wet. Messy and completely _them_.

“Go upstairs. Strip and get on the bed, yeah?”

Harry whimpered and pulled away, feeling his cock ache inside his loose track pants. All he could do was nod his head. Louis chuckled and turned him toward the stairs. As Harry walked away, Louis gave him a light tap on the bum. Harry gripped his dick to stop from shooting off right then.

****

It felt like he’d been lying there for a long time. It had only been a few minutes. He could hear Louis moving around downstairs, turning off lights and feeding the animals. Harry lay there, arse up, on the bed with his cheek resting on the cool duvet. He felt feverish, like he was burning up from the inside out. His cock was impossibly hard already and Louis had barely touched him, had only kissed him _once_.

While he waited for his husband, a series of scorching images flew through Harry’s mind. Louis’ hand firm and heavy, Harry’s wrists held down while Louis’ ran his fingers over his raw, reddened skin, Harry’s breath coming hard and fast. The way the pillow soaked up his tears as he cried when he finally, finally let go…

“ _Oh_. Look at you.” Louis’ voice came from the doorway like a feather falling to the floor.

Harry moaned and wriggled, relishing the way it felt when his prick rubbed up against the bedding, the fabric soft and silky underneath the sensitive head. “Lou...”

He could hear the sound of Louis’ clothing dropping to the floor, the slight swish of fabric on oak, as he made his way closer. He felt fingers run up the length of his spine. He shivered.

“So fucking beautiful Harry. Always so beautiful.”

Harry arched his back, preening at the compliment. Then, out of nowhere, Louis smacked his arse, right over his crack. _Hard_.

“Ah! _Fuck_!” Harry cried out, feeling the small pool of pre-come spreading on duvet. The slap stung, but felt so, so good. Like finally reaching an itch in the middle of your back, relief and longing intermingled into one intoxicating sensation.

Louis climbed up on to the bed, pressed up behind him, and slid his cock between Harry’s cheeks. Louis grabbed at his arse roughly, pulling him apart so that Harry felt completely exposed. His hands flung backward to grip his husband’s arse and keep him there, neck crimping painfully, although he was barely aware of it, the anticipation thrumming through his body like a freight train. The second slap came just as suddenly as the first, driving a loud grunt from Harry.  Louis’ cock was still there, still between his cheeks as he spanked him, making Harry imagine what it would feel like to be fucked _and_ spanked at the same time.  And, christ...that was a lot.

“Hands up Haz. Above your head.” Louis’ demanded. So fucking in charge. Harry felt his entire body go slack from it—the sound of it alone like a soothing balm.

Another smack.

“God!” Harry’s body responded immediately, his cock jerking between his legs, brushing against the bed violently. “ _Louis_!”

“Babe. I wish you could see yourself.” Louis bent down, pressing his cock in the cleft of Harry’s arse again, kissing along the back of Harry’s neck and over his shoulders, sinking his teeth in here and there, making Harry writhe both backward and forward, desperate for something, _anything_. Harry grabbed fistfuls of duvet and moaned into the bedding.

“Remember how you begged me to make you come?” Fingers trailed down his back as Louis stood up again, pulling Harry halfway off the bed so that his legs dropped off the side and his torso was pulled roughly into the place Louis wanted him. Louis grabbed at the smarting flesh of his cheeks and pushed them around his length as he thrust up and forward. Harry was shoved forward against the bed with each fluid movement.

“Louis,” Harry groaned, shoving back against his husband’s hips, his erection, looking for his release.

Another smack. And another. Harry’s bum stung from the spanking, the pleasure pain of it going straight to his dick. Louis pressed his hips flush to Harry’s arse, grinding into him with a mind-numbing friction that made Harry shudder.

“Do you remember, Harry?”

Harry felt the burn of Louis’ skin, his coarse hair, against his surely reddened cheeks. Harry found himself lost in the sensation of it, pulled into the memory of another night long ago that mirrored this one.

****

“Why would you think it was ok to just go off and dance with him?” Louis’ breath was hot against Harry’s cheek, as his face was pushed against the back of the hotel room door. Harry could smell whiskey and cinnamon gum on Louis breath. He jerked back against his husband’s hard cock, reveling in the feeling of his own growing arousal and the way it felt to be held firm like this.

“I—I didn’t—“

“Fuck, Harry. Do you know how hard it was to watch you…to _see_ you like that?”

Louis tugged at Harry’s belt and loosened his trousers. Within seconds he was bare, fabric pooling at his ankles, while Louis till held him securely against the door. Dizzy from alcohol and the unbearable lust that had taken over his mind since they stumbled into the hotel room, all Harry could do was moan.

“I think you need to be punished,” Louis said in this dark voice that Harry had never heard before.

His voice dripped with sex.  And something darker.  More intimate than Harry remembered his boyfriend ever sounding.

“Wh—what?” Harry dropped one hand from where it was splayed against the metal door so he could touch his straining cock.

Louis hauled Harry away from the door, making Harry gasp in surprise. “You heard me,” he said, raspy and low, almost like he was a different person. Louis half dragged, half threw Harry toward the queen sized bed a few feet away. “Arse up Harry.”

Harry wasn’t sure what was happening, but all he could think was that he liked it and he wanted to see how far Louis would take it.

****

“Remember, Haz? Remember how sore you were the next day? After we did this?” Louis’ hand came down loud and swift, the sound of it echoing throughout their dark bedroom.

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_!”

Louis ran his hands over Harry’s arse as if he were worshipping it. Harry winced at the bittersweet ache of it, the way his skin tingled and burned and the way his cock dribbled come consistently now.

“Remember?”  Smack.

Harry nodded his head, helpless now. Louis ran his hands over Harry’s arse in smooth circles, Harry arching his back at the searing pain he felt radiating from the center of his body. He moaned, earning him a soft shushing. Louis’ cock was back now, as Louis pulled him apart again, dry and twitching. Louis pushed against him, the blunt head of his erection catching on Harry’s rim.

“Nnnghh—Lou!”

And then Louis’ body was gone, another forceful smack in his place. Harry bit his lip, hard, and willed himself not to come. His mind could barely process how it was that he was so close, so lost in overwhelming pleasure at the feeling of his husband’s hand connecting with his skin, his bum, controlling him through measured pain and unbelievable pleasure. All Harry knew was that, like the last time they did this, he was going to come hard, and it was going to be incredible.

“Baby…” Louis voice washed over him in a whisper tide. Harry craned his neck and looked over his shoulder and saw Louis kneeling next to the bed alongside him. Louis ran his hand over the fevered skin of Harry’s arse and toyed with the sensitive edges of his hole. Harry moaned and arched his back, realizing that he was crying and he couldn’t stop. “Babe.”

Harry acknowledged his husband with bleary eyes and Louis tapped at his hip. Harry slowly slid off the bed, confused and tingling everywhere...his aching cock making it somewhat difficult to stand along with the tender, prickled tightness of his arse. “Hm?”

“Want you to come.”

Harry looked down at Louis, still not sure where he was or what was happening.

“Want you to come on my face.”

Harry lost any ability to speak, to reason, to even _pretend_ to understand what was happening to his body in this moment.  Realization dawned on him as he gasped and looked down at his husband’s flushed, earnest face. Louis chuckled low in his throat as he moved around on his knees so that his back was pressed to the side of the mattress and Harry was in front of him. Harry watched, feeling as if he were looking down at them from overhead, his brain still fuzzy from the spanking but his body still present and so desperately in need of release.

“Come on babe. Want you to. Want you to come all over me. Make me yours.” Louis’ face was flushed, as was his neck and chest, his own dick bobbing in front of him, begging for attention. His voice was still firm and in control, but raspy, telling Harry he was on the edge.  He sat there, complacent, hands on his knees, looking up at Harry.

“Mine,” Harry said, hoarse and shaky.

“Yours. _Always_.”

Harry licked his palm slowly and finally, finally, wrapped his fingers around his cock. He started hard and fast, not able to stop himself. His entire body went rigid as he flexed his stinging arse and came straight away. Stripes of come landed on Louis’ cheeks, some of it dripping from his long dark lashes and some of it landing on his outstretched tongue. Drops cascaded over his beautiful collar bones. He looked better than any porn actor Harry had ever seen and he sounded better too.

“ _Harry_. My Hazza. Fucking hell. You taste so good. Look so good. Baby…” Louis rambled while Harry finished, squeezing his cock and shuddering while he rode out his high. He grunted in relief and nearly collapsed when it was over. He knew that the last few weeks had been unbelievable and he couldn’t grasp how he could have come so hard and felt so good.  So much sex.  So much coming.  He grinned at his wild thoughts, sexhaustion settling in.

Louis stood up on shaky legs, holding his length while Harry fell backward on the bed, wincing at the raw feeling of his bum on the duvet. He rolled over, to give his arse some relief, groaning when his sensitive, still wet cock met the fabric below. Louis climbed over him and straddled the backs of his legs. When Harry figured out what Louis meant to do, he arched his back so that his bum met Louis’ cock, a loud eager moan trapped in his throat.

“Ah fuck, _Harry_ ,” Louis moaned and started to move.

Harry could hear his husband panting behind him as Louis slid his cock between Harry’s sore cheeks, dry fucking into his crack shakily.  Louis must have been close, the feeling of pre-come slick between Harry’s body and his husband’s cock as Louis chased his orgasm.  Harry reached back and pulled himself open, his cheeks hot to the touch and even more sore than he thought. He moaned around the pain, just this side of pleasurable, and thrust his arse back further.

“God _damnit_ ,” Louis swore under his breath.

Within seconds Harry heard Louis’ breath catch as he cried out, “Fuck!” Harry felt his husband’s release on the tender skin of his bum and splattering across his back. He moaned in unison with Louis, amazed at the feeling of being marked by Louis in such an intimate way.

Louis fell forward, hands pushing into Harry’s back, cock dipping into the small of Harry’s back, into the mess he’d made. “Babe.”

Harry sighed and felt around behind him so he could pull Louis’ down on top of him. Louis groaned when he fell into the sticky mess of sweat and come on Harry’s back. Harry laughed and turned his head so his husband could kiss him. Louis got the hint and nosed at Harry’s neck and pressed small, wet kisses along his cheek and temple. Harry smiled broadly, unable to help himself. He felt loose and sated, like he were floating on a cloud of post sex cotton euphoria.

Louis ran his arms up the back of Harry’s, stretched out above his head. He twined their fingers together while they lay there catching their breath and cooling off.

“I can’t believe—“ Harry started.

“I know. So fucking hot,” Louis whispered.

Harry wriggled a little and Louis slid off so that they could face each other. Harry felt spent and sticky, but he had no intentions of moving yet. They looked deep into each other’s eyes. Harry felt like they were joined at every level, almost like he could feel Louis’ heart beating inside his own. The past few weeks had brought them closer than ever, closer than Harry thought they could ever be.

“I didn’t realize how much I missed you,” Harry whispered, tucking his hand under his cheek, tears springing to his eyes.

Louis’ face screwed up and he bit his lip. “I know. I—I don’t ever want to feel like that again. You know?”

Harry nodded. Their lives had gotten away from them for a while. And now that they were back, together like this, he never wanted to let it go. “I know,” he whispered back, blinking back the tears that had yet to spill.

They watched each other for a few moments, Louis’ hand at Harry’s hip, rubbing small circles into the soft swell of flesh there. “So…”

Harry smirked. “Yeah?”

“Spanking?” Louis looked like a little kid, a little kid with a secret.

“Hm. It would appear so.” Harry felt smug. And sore.

“Why—why haven’t we done that before?”

“Dunno.” Harry thought for a moment. “I guess…just never really thought about it again? After that night?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you?”

“Well…yeah. I did,” Louis admitted, running his hand over Harry’s bum. Harry squeezed his eyes closed at the roughness of Louis’ normally soft gentle hand. “Sorry, sorry babe.”

“Don’t be. I liked it. _A lot._ ” Harry blushed, leaning forward to kiss Louis softly on the lips.

“I could tell.”

“Fuck you.”

“Already? I’m not a young man anymore, Haz.”

“Ha. Ha.” Harry rolled over, planning on heading to the shower.

“Let me,” Louis said softly, already off the bed. “Bath?”

Harry smiled at his husband. His beautiful, caring, kinky husband who he loved so much. “Yeah. Bath sounds good.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! If you liked it, please, please, pretty please leave a comment! Thanks!


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